A Rose by Any Other Name
by PurpleKittyKat
Summary: The timeless tale of our two favorite star-crossed lovers... except this time, there's a happy ending in fair Verona.
1. Chapter 1

Tonight is the big night. My parents are finally allowing me to attend one of their balls. And not just any ball– a masquerade ball. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always dreamed of going to one of these famed dances. Everyone in Verona is invited, and almost no one ever misses it. Allow me to correct myself: _almost_ everyone is invited. There is only one family in town that is forbidden to come– the Montagues. Lord Montague is my father's enemy and his kin are beyond contemptible in our eyes. They avoid us, and we avoid them. But I digress….

Mother was so happy that I would finally be attending a ball that she had a dress and mask specifically made for the event. She wouldn't let me see them until the night that I would wear them- tonight. She had come to my bedroom door as I was getting ready and asked me to close my eyes. When I opened them, I beheld the most beautiful dress that I had ever seen. It was made of pale pink silk with gold embroidery. There were tiny yellow roses sewn all over the skirt. The sleeves cinched above the elbow and flared to the wrist, and the hem floated around my ankles. The neckline, sleeves, and hem were trimmed in white lace. To complete the ensemble, Mother had brought a pair of yellow dancing slippers and gold rose hair pins. She pinned my wavy blonde tresses expertly and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"My dearest daughter," she said, "you have never looked more beautiful than you do at this moment." I gave her a shy smile in return for her sweet compliment.

"But it's still missing something. Ah, I know," she said with a sly grin on her face. She walked over to my dressing table and picked up a box that I hadn't noticed before.

"Well, open it," she said as she handed it to me. When I looked inside, I saw the set of jewelry that Father had given Mother as a wedding present. There was a pair of pearl earrings, two pearl bracelets, and a heart-shaped locket dangling from the end of a string of pearls. And at the very bottom of the box, there lay a gold embroidered mask with a yellow ribbon in the back.

"Oh, Mother," I exclaimed, fighting back tears of joy, "I don't know what to say, except thank you!" I gave her a warm hug, which she returned. When we pulled apart, she stepped back and softly caressed my cheek in the way that only a mother can do.

"Now," she said, "the ball is about to start. We would not want to be late, now, would we?" She linked arms with me and whisked me out of my bedroom.

As we walked down the hall towards the staircase, Mother suddenly remarked, "Oh, honey, you do look so pretty tonight. I imagine that Paris will agree with my assessment." At the mention of Paris, I stopped in my tracks. Paris was the man that Mother and Father wanted me to wed. Needless to say, I did not exactly share in their sentiments. I am sure that he was a nice gentleman, but the mere mention of his name sent a shiver of panic down my spine. Mother looked at me with concern written clearly on her countenance.

"Darling, what's wrong? You look like you have seen a ghost."

"It's nothing, Mother," I replied, plastering a smile on my visage. "I was simply lost in my thoughts for a moment." As we reached the staircase and descended to the bottom, my mother turned to me again.

"Dear, I love that you are a thoughtful child. Please, though, try not to become lost in your thoughts again when you are conversing with Paris tonight. We would not wish to scare off the poor man, sweetie."

She guided me into the ballroom, where the party was about to begin. There were tables filled to bursting with hors d'oeuvres on the left side and the orchestra on the right side. The back wall boasted a row of French doors leading to large balcony.

Mother steered me towards a small cloud of people near the buffet tables. I stared intently at my slippers trudging unwillingly across the marble floor: black, white, black white. I stopped waking when I saw a shiny pair of black dress shoes. I looked up and saw a tall, handsome young man with medium-brown hair and dark eyes. Mother introduced him as Paris, my seemingly future husband. He started talking to me, but I was not listening closely to his words. Throughout this farce of a conversation, he smiled and laughed many times at most everything that Mother, Father, or my cousin Tybalt were saying. By the time that five minutes had elapsed, I desperately needed to leave in order to preserve what minute scrap of sanity that I still dared to possess. I excused myself as politely as I could manage – under the most convincing guise of hunger – and dashed to the food. After grabbing a few delectable items, I noticed two young men emerging from the rightmost balcony door, consumed with each other's laughter.

Their exit from the balcony persuaded me to hide from Paris outside. As I opened that same set of doors through which those boys had just strolled, a rush of sweet, warm summer air greeted me kindly and gently tugged me further into the night. The crickets chirped in the slowly swaying branches that overhung the balcony railing. I rested my plate on the edge of the railing and enjoyed the silent serenity of a blissful summer night.

Suddenly, I heard a rustling in the tree to my right, and a head popped up out of nowhere. I stepped back a little in surprise, and the head gave an apologetic crooked smile. He climbed onto the balcony to assume a somewhat dignified appearance, but he failed most miserably when we both realized that he still had bits of leaves stuck all over his clothes. After he removed the leaves and was finally presentable, I could accurately take in his features. He was about a head taller than me with a lean build. He had dark brown hair that had rebelled against his many attempts to flatten it. His eyes were the most striking sapphire blue that I had ever beheld (a most welcome change from my pale green orbs), and I lingered on those for a fair few seconds before continuing my scan. His maroon and gold clothes were made of finest silk, but he was dressed relatively simply with only a black and gold mask to complement his attire.

"Please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies, my lady. I was not aware that I would be embarrassing myself in the company of such a lovely audience this evening." At this verbose statement, he gave an extravagant bow.

I giggled at his display and replied, "You are forgiven, kind sir, for the show was quite entertaining."

"I appreciate your candor, milady," he said as he took my hand and kissed it. "So, while we're not on the topic, what is a pretty little thing like you doing away from a wonderful party like this?"

"Well...," I began, and I recounted the evening's woeful tale.

"My, oh my, that is a tragic tale indeed. I have recently experienced a situation on the opposite end of the spectrum. The girl with whom I thought I was in love has told me, in no uncertain terms, that she does not reciprocate my sentiments. This understandably brought me undue misery, and I have been skulking around these past few days. My friends suggested that we attend this party, so I begrudgingly followed them here. Now that I am here, though, and in most wondrous company, I am quite glad that I listened to them."

"I must admit that your story is far more melancholy than my own. I am sure that the lass of whom you speak deserves none of the love that you can give."

We carried on like this through the night, telling each other amusing anecdotes that gradually revealed more and more of our parallel personalities. Whenever we would hear some music that we liked, we would start to dance, laughing when one of us missed a step. One of the later dances was a slow and beautiful waltz. As the dance progressed, we became closer and closer to each other until our noses were almost touching. Near the end of the dance, he leaned in closer to me and slowly untied my mask.

"There," he said. "Now I can see the full beauty of your brightly glowing face. I will grant you the equal pleasure of seeing my face, as I believe that it is almost as beautiful as your own."

He placed the masks on the railing of the balcony and resumed the dance. He took a step closer to me and gently cupped my face in his hands. I closed my eyes and leaned into him as he gave me my first kiss. I felt like I was soaring through the glowing clouds of the brightest sunset into the sunlight of my future. When the song ended and we broke apart, his eyes of sapphire locked with mine of peridot, and we both smiled and sighed as we realized that we were probably in love.

At that moment, I deemed it necessary to discover the name of this lovely and mysterious gentleman. "Dear sir," I started, "as I do not wish to call you that for the rest of our lives, I believe it prudent to ask you your name, and to give you mine in return."

"My name, dear lady?" he retorted with a grin. "Why, if you insist on such formalities, I will reveal it to you. My name is Romeo Montague. And now, if you might tell me what you are called, for I share your sentiment about our names."

I stared at him for a second, mouth hanging open in shock. I had just fallen in love with my family's enemy. How could this have happened to me? I debated whether or not I should tell him. Just as I had decided to tell him that I was his nemesis, the doors burst open as Romeo's companions ran over to the tree by which they had entered.

"Come on!" they shouted at him. "Terrible Tybalt discovered us here! We have to go now!"

Romeo turned to me and said, "I'll come back later to claim my prize – your identity. Farewell for now, my love!" As they all climbed down the tree and escaped through the orchard, I heard his comrades ask him if he knew who I was.

When he replied in the negative, they said, "You don't know? That's old Capulet's daughter, Juliet!" The last thing I saw before Tybalt led me back inside was the face of Romeo looking back at me in heartbreaking confusion.

 _My name is Juliet Capulet, and I have just fallen for my enemy._


	2. Chapter 2

I cannot believe what turbulent events have transpired this evening. I meet a man with whom I am sure I am in love, only to discover that he is, in fact, a Montague, the son of my family's most hated adversary. I am forbidden to love him by every thought that has been instilled in me from the moment I was born, and every fiber of my being screams at me to banish these unsavory delusions; and yet, my heart yearns for him in a more consuming way than I ever imagined possible. I know that I will never, and cannot, stop loving him, and my heart and mind ache with the thought that this could destroy both my family and his.

Later that night, after I was dressed in my nightgown and ready to go to bed, I wandered out onto my bedroom balcony and silently closed the door behind me. Struggling over my vexing situation in a stuffy bedroom had left me with fevered skin and a brain to match. Out here, the fresh summer breeze cooled my face and cleared my mind. Out here, I could think quietly without the clutter of my parents' prejudices hanging thick and heavy in the air around me. I began to pace as I debated the issue, speaking aloud to myself: "If only he was not a Montague, this would be infinitely easier. But alas, he bears the name that I have come to despise, and the name that I can despise no longer. It does not matter that he is a Montague; as long as he loves me and I love him, we can be happy together, for we will create our own identities once joined together."

"You failed to mention that you were a Capulet… Juliet."

I turned and saw him, _Romeo_ , striding towards me through our orchard. He wore a visage of nonchalance, but I could see that it was just a mask shielding his hurt and confusion.

"I wanted to tell you, I was going to tell you," I replied, kindly but firmly. "You ran away before we could discuss it… Romeo."

"You would think that an issue of such grave importance would have warranted a full and immediate explanation… Juliet." At that statement, his voice rose in volume, and I feared that my parents would hear our quarrelling.

"Please don't be cross with me for a situation that was entirely out of my control. And please stop using my given name as a weapon. I am sure that you do not truly think of it that way."

"How can I not, when the woman to which it belongs has stolen my heart and shot it through with Cupid's arrow herself?" I could see that the frown he prominently displayed at the beginning of our conversation had transformed into a sly smirk. He began to climb the vine that lazily crawled its way up the wall to my balcony, and soon he appeared before me.

"You are right, my love. We should not bicker mindlessly when we have more pressing matters to resolve," he said, the smirk still proudly sitting on his face.

"And which specific matters would those be, oh dearest Romeo?" I retorted, returning his smirk.

He stepped closer, took my hands in his, and said, "Well, for one, there is the very puzzling conundrum of how to properly express my love for you. By your earlier speech, it is obvious that you will not reject my advances, but rather welcome them wholeheartedly. That settled, I believe that I have a solution to this problem." He slid his hands from my hands to my hips, pulled me closer, and gave me a tender kiss. My arms encircled his neck, seemingly of their own accord, as the kiss deepened. It seemed to last a thousand lifetimes, but it felt like only a second had passed once we pulled away for air.

"Well," I said, smiling up at him, "now that we have settled that issue, we need to return to the realm of harsh reality for just a moment so that we can think of a solution to our next obstacle: our parents."

"Ah, yes, our parents," he said, sighing and leaning his forehead against mine. "I had almost forgotten about them. It feels so wonderful to have it simply be the two of us in this world, blissfully alone. But you are correct, we must address this problem." His brow furrowed, and he pulled one of his hands away so that he could put a finger to his chin in mock contemplation. "Fact Number One: our parents hate each other." He began to pace in circles around me, his eyes never leaving mine. "Fact Number Two: they would never agree to this-" he gestured to the pair of us—"if their lives, or ours, depended on it. Fact Number Three: we are madly and passionately in love with each other, and we will simply burst if we are torn asunder." He paused to brush my cheek with his knuckles before continuing on his track. "Conclusion: we must simply continue without them finding out about us, or make it so that they cannot argue."

"Comment:" I started as we began to circle each other, now turning in the opposite direction, "it seems rather impossible to keep this a secret from either of our parents for too long of a duration. What exactly did you have in mind for the situation that will disable them from arguing with us?"

"Before I address your very important question, I have a present for you. It's just a little something that I found on my way over here. Now I just need to remember where I put it." He searched his pockets, patted down his shirt, and peeked in his shoes. There, he knelt down and pulled an object out of the heel of his left shoe: an ornate diamond ring with a single pale pink rose stuck through it. I recognized it as one of the flowers from the rosebushes just inside the orchard wall. I gasped slightly at the sheer beauty of the ring and the rose together, and I brought my gaze up to his eyes.

"I had this idea buzzing through my skull ever since I left your party. It's the perfect way to prevent either of our families from splitting us apart: we need to be wed. So, if it's not too much trouble, would you consent to being my bride, Juliet Capulet?"

"Well, it does seem like a bit too much trouble, considering that my parents will permanently shun me when they find out that I've eloped with the son of their nemesis. And please don't become accustomed to addressing me by that name." The light left his eyes, and his head hung low, hair falling in his eyes.

"I should hope that I would be called by the name Juliet Montague after we were married," I stated with a sparkle in my eye and a quirk in my smile.

Romeo immediately stood up and kissed me firmly. I could feel the smile on his lips, and I smiled back in return. When we broke apart, we were both laughing.

"You had me fooled for a second. At least now I know that our marriage will never be a dull one. I know that you won't be able to wear this permanently right now, but I would like to see my bride-to-be wearing her engagement ring." He slipped the ring onto my finger, and nothing had ever fit so perfectly in all of space and time. We both looked down at it with contented smiles playing across our lips.

Suddenly, I heard my bedroom door creak open, and the voice of my nurse shattered the serene stillness of that perfect moment. "Juliet, where are you? Why are you not in bed?"

I quickly shouted back a reply: "I'm just out on the balcony. I needed a breath of fresh air. I will return inside shortly."

"Well, do hurry up with whatever it is that you are doing out there. You need your rest from the long night you've had."

I turned to Romeo and looked forlornly into his eyes, biting my lower lip so that it pulled into a pouty frown. "I suppose that is your cue to leave."

"I suppose that it is. But have no fear, for I predict that we shall meet again sooner rather than later. Goodbye, my darling, until the morrow." He planted a series of quick kisses on my cheeks, nose, and mouth; then scrambled down the vine and over the wall. He waved and blew a kiss to me as he departed. I caught his kiss and held it to my cheek before remembering that I had a cross nurse in my room waiting for me. I left the rose on the wall of the balcony and placed the ring in the pocket of my nightgown. As I entered my room, my nurse rushed up to me and said, "Tonight must be a much hotter night that I had originally thought. Look, your cheeks are bright red. Get into bed this instant, so you can cool down and get to sleep."

After she had made sure that I was on my way to sleep, she whispered good night to me and left, closing the door behind her. I rolled over onto my side, and the curtains on my balcony door briefly blew aside, revealing my rose: a memento of our forbidden love. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

 _My name is Juliet Capulet, and I am about to marry my enemy._


	3. Chapter 3

I am only allowing one thought to take root in my brain today: _this is it. It's finally here._ Today is the day, the day that I will marry my one true love, Romeo Montague, and be joined to him for eternity. I felt almost giddy with anticipation and excitement as my nurse walked me to Friar Lawrence's cell. We were forced to tell my nurse because we needed a person who could relay messages between us, and also because someone had to be there to legally witness us being married. Friar Lawrence is an old friend of Romeo's, and he reluctantly agreed to marry us.

When we arrived at the chapel, I climbed the stairs and walked inside. I was greeted by the expectant glance of Friar Lawrence and the animated grin of my fiancé, Romeo. I walked to the front of the church and stood beside him. I had officially decided at that moment that my favorite place in the world was right there, next to him. Friar Lawrence asked if we were ready to begin, then he started the traditional wedding rites: "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God to join this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony…." I wish I could say that we were more or less mentally present during the ceremony, but all I could do was hold his hand and gaze into his eyes until it was my turn to say, "I do," and I have the feeling that Romeo did the exact same thing.

It was late afternoon when I left for the wedding, so it was approaching dinnertime by the time we were married. Romeo walked me back to the front gate of my house, then said, "I'll be back after dinner, and I will wait for you in the orchard until it is safe for me to see you. I love you, Mrs. Montague," he said as he kissed my forehead and turned to leave.

"I love you, too, Mr. Montague." I stared at his receding frame until it dissolved into the evening shadows and I was forced to go inside.

 _My name is Juliet Montague, and I have just married my enemy._


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up, and it was still dark outside, only the barest hint of dark gray light shining through my balcony doors. I rolled over to see Romeo sleeping beside me. It is such a strange, new feeling to be sharing a bed with someone, but one that makes me happy rather than uneasy. I thought that I would feel a change inside of me—some sort of emotional maturation—that would change my perception of the world, but giving myself away to Romeo last night only made me feel indescribably happy and complete. As I was staring at him, he opened his eyes and gazed lovingly at me. He sat up and planted a sweet, gentle kiss on my lips, then moved on to my nose, cheeks, forehead, and hands. I snuggled closer to him, and we enjoyed the feeling of being as close to each other as humanly possible. It was dark, so I walked over to the balcony doors to open the curtains, stepping over the nightgown that was deposited on the floor at some point last night. I quickly crawled back to the warmth of the sheets and Romeo's body, then he said, "As much as it pains my soul to say this, I think that I need to leave shortly. If your parents found me in here, I would most likely be beheaded on the spot."

"Oh, no," I said, "they wouldn't behead you. That's far too quick and painless. They would probably use something more like a group of swordsmen or something of that nature." I am joking with him to avoid the subject of him leaving for any length of time, but eventually I realize that I have to address it.

"You know, I believe that there is a way for us to stay together without attracting the attentions of our parents," I responded, a devious and happy smile slowly creeping onto my face.

"My parents have arranged for me to marry Paris on Thursday. For obvious reasons, that is no longer possible. I was discussing this predicament with Friar Lawrence yesterday after the wedding, and he suggested that I use this." I held up a small vial filled with green liquid. "It's a potion that will slow my heartbeat so much to create the false appearance of death. I will drink it tomorrow night, and on Thursday morning, my parents will find me in my bed, dead from all outward appearances. They will lay me in the family crypt, as per tradition, and you can come to collect me after the potion wears off. Friar Lawrence said that its effects will be present for 42 hours, so come to the cemetery on Friday night, after the sun has abandoned the day and the moon has given rise to the night. Make sure that you are seen by no one, then we can flee to Mantua and begin our new lives as proper newlyweds."

"Well, you two have certainly thought out every last detail. It is a marvelous plan, my dear, and I will follow it to the letter. But for now, I must follow the path of the soon-arising sun. Farewell, my darling, until Friday night, when we will finally be together forever."He gave me a reassuring smile, quickly dressed, and made his grand escape down the vine and across the orchard, just as the first rays of morning sunlight greeted the world.

 _My name is Juliet Montague, and I am going to run away with my enemy._


	5. Chapter 5

When I opened my eyes, they were dry and heavy from nonuse. I sat up and looked around at the graves of my long-departed ancestors. I saw the sunset of the evening fading into the darkness of the night. It was nearing the time when Romeo would come to rescue me from this dank, miserable prison. The exterior torches were already lit, so that meant that he would not have to worry about avoiding the lamplighters. As the minutes ticked by on their invisible clock, I felt a sense of dread sweep over me. I didn't want to be cooped up in there for any longer, but I had no choice. There was only a handle on the outside of the door (I guess they assumed that the dead wouldn't have much use for a doorknob), so I was forced to wait for my Romeo to arrive.

About half an hour after I awoke, I heard the clip-clop of horses' hooves on the gravel outside the crypt. My heart leapt in my chest. Could it be Romeo? I decided that I should make our reunion as lively and full of relief as possible, so I laid down where I was originally placed, closed my eyes, and placed my hands across my chest. Now he would still think that I was "dead."

I heard the door open with an eerily resounding creak, as if it was the sound of the dead walking about in their centuries-old skeletons. I lay there patiently and waited for Romeo to find me; it didn't take him long, and he soon stood beside me. I waited for his reaction. At first, he simply examined me closely; I could feel his face inching nearer to mine as he looked for signs of life. Then he began to shake me, like my soul would rouse itself from the harsh jostling. Then I heard a soft, high-pitched sound, and a warm drop of liquid fell on my cheek. Was he crying? I heard him quietly sobbing for a few moments before the sound suddenly disappeared, as if blown away on the wind. I took this as my moment to make myself known.

"I never thought that I would ever see you cry, much less for me," I said in a raspy voice. My throat was still becoming accustomed to speaking again after 42 hours of silence.

"Well, it took you long enough," he said with a smile. I sat up and gave him a playful slap on the arm.

"You knew? And you just let me sit there and keep up the act for you?"

"I could see your chest move as you breathed. The next time you pretend to be dead at someone else's expense, you might want to keep that in mind."

I immediately threw myself onto him in a colossal embrace, and the force knocked us both to the ground. We collapsed in a tangle of limbs and a fit of giggles. He stood up and helped me to my feet. He carried me outside to the cart in which he had arrived, in true bridal fashion, and gently placed me on the seat. He slid in beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Are you ready to start our honeymoon in Mantua, my darling?" he asked in the sweetest way imaginable.

"There is nothing else I would rather do, and no one else with which I would rather do it. Although, for all his faults, Paris was a very nice young man," I smirked up at him.

He held his hand up to his heart in mock offense and said, "Well, if that's how you feel, I suppose that I can manage without you. There's always Rosaline."

"Never," I replied in a firm voice. "I love you, and I always will. Now, may we please be on our way?"

"Your wish is my command, my noble lady," he said, accompanied by his now-trademark exaggerated bow. "On we go."

As we rode off into the night to start our new life in Mantua, I couldn't help but think that this was the best thing that could ever have happened to either of us.

 _My name is Juliet Montague, and I am living happily ever after with my love._


End file.
